Out Of The Blue
by Shrimpmeister
Summary: Twenty years have passed. The five have led separate, diverse lives, but a series of circumstances and events bring them back together. Rated M for language and content. Please read and review, it's the only way I know what's good and what's not. :
1. Out of the Blue

Claire was woken by the insistent warble of the phone by her bed. Groggily, she reached for the light, and blinked its glare away. The alarm clock read 3:00 am.

"Hello…?"

"Claire? It's Brian."

Claire's mind snapped back the twenty-odd years to her schooldays. For two semesters they had been inseparable, before John's final defiant act had seen him kicked out of school. After that, the remaining four had started to drift slowly apart.

Even after all these years, Claire still heard from Andy – well, heard of him, whenever the national team was in the newspaper. He'd made the state wrestling team, and then gone on to the Olympic trials. Now he was fitness coach of the national squad.

John had, as everyone feared, progressed from moody teen to actual crime, and was in some jail or other somewhere, probably. And Allison was married and lived on a farm in Iowa – not quite the rebel she had been back in the days when 'the Breakfast Club' had been their whole lives.

But Brian? He'd gone off to college soon after school ended, and then just disappeared. She'd not heard his voice since 1988….

"Claire?"

"Brian? Where the fuck have you been? And where are you?" she yelled, her eyes filling with joyous tears, her mind suddenly wide awake.

"Look out the window……" he said with a smile.

Claire leapt to her feet and ran over to the window, throwing the drapes open. There he stood, under the streetlight across from her house. His hair was longer, his clothes a little shabbier, and a tote-bag sat by his feet. But the posture, slightly stooping and endearingly geek-ish, left her in no doubt that this was Brian.

"Oh my god, it is you…"

"So you gonna let me in or what? Don't know if you can tell, but it's cold out here!"

"What? Oh – of course. I'm coming down.".

Claire got to the top of the stairs before she realised that she was wearing nothing but panties. She automatically turned and had reached into the closet for her robe before she thought of how she would have appeared to Brian when she'd opened the drapes…..

She ran downstairs, knotting the belt in haste to get to the door. She could already see his shadow through the glass. Even in her hurry to let him in, she still paused for a second or two by the mirror, making sure she looked… well, right.

As the door opened, she finally got a good look at his face. His eyes were framed with slightly unfashionable spectacles, and these, together with his shoulder-length hair, gave him the look of the intellectual she'd always thought he would become. He was looking straight at her, almost through her, and for an instant there was hesitancy in both of them, broken only when Claire threw her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, tears suddenly flowing freely.

After a few seconds, Claire realized that she wasn't the only one crying. Brian was shaking, wracked by huge sobs that almost made her his only means of support.

They stood for fully five minutes, letting out all the tension and emotion they had. Only when both had calmed enough to talk did they break.

* * *

Once coffee had brewed, Claire sat at the table in the kitchen, looking across at him.

"Do you realise how hard we tried to find you? What happened?" asked Claire.

"I know – I'm sorry about all that. But I needed a little time – there was some stuff I needed to sort. I will tell you – I want to. That's mainly why I'm here. But I need to get it straight, so's you understand. What about you? How's life been for the princess?"

"Oh – OK, I guess. It could have been a lot worse. I finished my training as a legal secretary, and now I work at a small firm in the city. I'm doing alright"

"And is it just you, or is there someone else – sorry. I didn't mean to be so…"

"Hey, Bri – it's me. You don't have to apologize. For anything." Claire saw the smile fickler for a moment on his lips. "I was married once. Didn't work out though. He was… going different places. When it was good, it was OK, but those times weren't the most regular. It was a bit of a mistake all round. So in the end we just cut our losses and called it a day. Thank god there were no kids involved, else we'd both be screwed up now."

"Well, you've done well from it" said Brian, glancing around at the kitchen. "Nice place you've got here."

"Took me a while, but I managed to get the cash together to buy him out. The best thing to come from it all was this house."

"Did you not get this as a settlement?"

"No – I couldn't do that." Claire's head dropped. "Bri – it was Andy…"

"Huh? How come….?"

Claire looked up, and was relieved to see that Brian wasn't showing any judgment on his face. Not even much surprise – only interest and concern.

"Bri, I don't know how much of this you know, so I'll just say it, and hopefully it'll make sense. After you left for college out in California, Allison and I both went on to Northbrook College. Andy got a scholarship to Winterton. So we all stayed pretty much local. John got a job fitting tires down at Old Joe's place on Argyle Street.

"Thing is with John… well he wasn't ever good at taking orders from anyone. I guess none of us were surprised when he got arrested – but we didn't expect that he'd get two years straight off….

"After John got sent down that first time, we all tried to keep going, you know? Ally and I were doing well, living in the same house at college. And Andy never lost interest in her, so he was always around.the place. Then one day she came in all happy and stuff, telling us she'd just met this guy. Andy just upped and walked out.

"Six months later, she was gone – moved out to Iowa, started working for some supplies company out there. A year later they were married. He's a real nice guy, but Andy couldn't see it. He'd always imagined they would end up together, and never really believed her when she told him that he wasn't who she wanted. I think the toughest thing for her was that I was the only one of us who went to the wedding. John was still in jail, Andy refused to go – even returned the invitation – and you… "

Brian shrugged, and sipped his coffee. "In a while, Claire – I promise. Go on…"

"When I got back, there was just the two of us left. We'd talk a little, mostly about nothing at all. But mostly he stayed away, so I was all alone. After being so close, suddenly you were all gone. Then one night a month or so later, I came home to find Andy sat on the front step, with what was left of a bottle of bourbon. He was in no state to go anywhere, so I took him up to my room. He was talking about everything – about how he hated that everyone was gone, how he reckoned he'd fucked up with Ally, how it was all his fault that John hadn't stayed clean, how I must despise him for chasing everyone away. All bullshit, of course, but he couldn't understand. So I just held him until he slept. I lay there, awake all night just holding him, listening to his breathing.

"I know it was stupid, but that was the closest I'd felt to anyone in a long while. So slowly, as the clock ticked the night away, I started thinking about him – as a man, not just as a friend. Anyway, it must have been a couple of hours later, I suddenly realised that he was awake, and looking at me. I looked into his eyes, smiled, and kissed him. That was the start.

"We spent the next three years together. Right after we both graduated, we got married. He got his chance to work with the national coach, and ended up travelling more and more to meets across the country, and even overseas. And the more time we spent apart, the more we realised that we'd kinda fallen into the marriage instead of building it. I learned to be more self-reliant and confident, and Andy eventually learned to let me go."

Brian hadn't said anything through this; he'd simply sat quietly, listening. He finally reacted, reaching his hand out to cover hers.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you, Claire. I don't know what I could have done to help you, but I should have been here."

"So where were you, Brian? We tried getting some information from your college, even thought about travelling down there to ask around. But they told me that you'd simply up and quit."

"Yeah – they… that's what I told them. I said I was homesick, and was dropping out to come home."

"Where did you go?"

"At the beginning, I just needed some space, some distance. Jeez, we thought school was tough. You wouldn't believe how easy it was compared to college for me. I was so used to being the bright kid. Well, compared with some of the others, I felt like every class was metal-shop. I just didn't get it. Every lecture, every paper, I was working flat out just to keep above the line. Then this guy offered me help: a few answers here and there, to start with. I knew it was wrong, but at least it gave me a little breathing space. In return, I did a few favors for him – he said he was helping a friend to move home, and had a crate or two that needed dropping off at a house downtown. I didn't think there was anything more to it, so I did it. Turns out he was a dealer.

"By the time I realised, it was too late. If I stopped, or said anything, I was implicating myself. Worse still, he knew some nasty people that would not be happy. So I had no choice…."

"Shit, Bri…. How long was this…"

"'Bout six months. More and more, the staff kept on about the increase in drugs in the town, and every board had a notice about the danger – as if we didn't know. I felt like shit, reading all this and knowing that I was a part of bringing it all in.

"Then one morning I remember being woken by yelling in the corridor. Turns out that Rich, my… contact… had been found dead in the locker-rooms by the gymnasium. Really turned over, from what they said. I went back into my room, closed the door, and vomited. Totally freaked. After a while, I knew I needed to be somewhere else, so I grabbed a bag and some money, got in the car, and just drove – anywhere, as long as it was far away. Sent a letter to school a week later, telling them I was going home, and then kept running."

"Where did you end up?"

"Canada at first. I drove all the way up the west coast, ended up in a little town just north of Vancouver. Sold my car and rented a room. Didn't do anything 'cept drink coffee and read the newspapers for a week. When I finally went out, I ended up getting a job at the local diner, washing up and cleaning tables. Stayed there for about six months in the end.

"As the fear of being either arrested or killed went away, I started to look for other work – anything that paid a little better, and that gave me a little more stability. Ended up doing OK, got myself some money together and moved into a little apartment in a town up in Alberta. It was only a small place, and the longer it went without anyone turning up and asking questions, the better it got. Eventually, it became harder to leave than to stay."

"Did you ever get together with anyone?" Claire interrupted.

"Not really. Well, there were some, but nothing serious, and nothing long-term. I'd made some friends up there, and that was fine for when I needed company. For… anything else, there were… places I could go."

Claire couldn't stop herself.

"Hookers!?"

"Hey – don't be like that. Think back, Claire. I've never been someone who knows how to talk to women. Add to that I've never been the rugged, handsome type. And all that stuff – it didn't exactly boost my confidence at all. So yes, if you like, hookers. Nothing rough, and not very often. But it helped me get through."

"Is that where you've been all this time?"

"Pretty much. Like I said, after being somewhere for a while, it gets harder to leave. Not just because roots get planted, and not just because you become more… responsible, I guess. For me, it was also harder to face up to what I'd been running from. I'd made some really good friends there, and got myself a good job. People liked me. But it was all built on the lies I'd told when I first got there. I'd almost got to believing them myself."

"So why come here now? What made you come?"

"One day, John showed up."

"WHAT??"

"Yup. Threw me a curve as well. He was hitching with this truck-driver who stopped off in town. I'm sat in the diner eating breakfast, and he just walked in the door."

"He's – he's out of jail?"

"Uhuh. I recognized him straight away – he's still wearing that old battered leather coat of his, and acting as tough as possible. When I called his name, he turned to see me and almost had a coronary. Had to sit down, but just kept on saying my name. In the end, I called the office and took the day off. We just sat there talking all damn day."

"How is he? Where is he now?"

"He's staying in my apartment for a while. I can give you the number later if you want it, so you can ask him yourself."

"Shit, Brian…. hang on, that doesn't answer my question. Why did you come find me after all these years?"

"John told me some stuff – about himself, about the five of us – that I never knew. Whether it was because he'd been away for so long I can't say, but I'd never spoken to him and thought he was being completely truthful until that day.

"I knew I had always been the spare peg in the club. Right from day 1, it was you and John, Andy and Allison, and me. Don't get me wrong, that was OK, in fact had either of you girls shown any interest in me, I'd have panicked. But I now had two friends who were girls. Of course I was gonna have a thing for you both."

Claire saw Brian's cheeks begin to flush, and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Bri – we both knew. You couldn't hide it. We saw you looking at us both. As we are being honest, we both kinda enjoyed it – maybe not at first, but as we got to know you better, sure. In the end you became a good measure for us – if what we wear made you notice us more, we knew we were on the right track."

"That's what John said. I had no idea that you knew."

Claire chuckled. "Of course I knew – as I remember, there was a pretty good indication sometimes!"

"What? Oh – shit…"

Now Brian's face glowed scarlet, as he recalled the time he'd been caught staring at Claire, and she'd noticed the tent in his pants. He'd managed to stammer some weak excuse, and Claire had never mentioned it again – until tonight.

"Anyway, what are you here for, Brian?" Claire smiled, trying not to make his discomfort worse.

"John turning up made me think of the rest of you for the first time in years – I mean, really think. His appearance shook my whole life up there. We talked, ate, talked some more, remembering stuff from years ago, and filling in a lot of the gaps.

Later that night, when he'd fallen asleep on the couch, I tried to look you guys up online, to see what was going on. I found plenty about Andy, through the sports pages. Not a lot about you or Allison though. But I had an email address for Andy, so I gave it a go. The next afternoon, I got a call from him."

"How's he doing?"

"Seemed OK. We talked for a little while, but he didn't open up so much. When I asked about you, he didn't say too much, but gave me the address and number. He didn't mention all the stuff about you and him. When I mentioned Allison, he clammed up completely. Said he needed to go, but he'd call me back soon."

"Nothing since?"

"Nope. Now you've explained, I'm not that surprised."

"Brian, what about your family? Have you…"

"No – not yet. They knew I was OK – I'd called my mom not long after leaving College, telling her I was going on a trip for a little while. When I wrote to them afterwards, I'd made up a story to let them know I was OK. Every now and then I'd write and keep them informed a little – even went overseas a couple of times, to make them think I'd moved away. I know I have to go over there, but how I'll break the truth to them, I haven't decided yet."

"Brian, you know that if you want me to come over with you, I'll do that."

Brian's shoulders dropped, as he relaxed. Claire hadn't realized just how tense and difficult this must have been for him.

"Thanks – that means so much to me. You know, what amazes me is that however you two got together, Andy ended up throwing you over for his wrestling."

"Why? You know how important that's always been to him."

"Yeah, I get that bit. However, three reasons. One – he knew that Allison was out of the picture, so no matter what he did or said, that wasn't going to happen. Two – I know what being alone is like, so to have someone as kind, as warm, and as successful as you, and risk losing it, just doesn't make sense…"

Claire now felt herself start to blush.

"And three – I will never forget what you looked like up at the window earlier, not for the rest of my life!"

Claire immediately reddened, and only then noticed that Brian's gaze had shifted from her face. Looking down, she realized that her gown was gaping more than it should. She moved to close it, then stopped, and burst out laughing. She'd been reacting just as the Claire of twenty years ago would have, and one thing she was sure of – this wasn't the old Brian sat before her. They had both been through a lot since then, and each had grown stronger and more certain of their character.

Claire reached out, and used her index finger under Brian's chin to lift his eyes to hers.

"Brian, I'll let that one go for now. Let's not talk about – well, US, right now. I'm still getting used to having you here, after so long."

"Claire, I promise that whatever happens, and wherever I go – I'm not disappearing again. I've crossed too many bridges this week to go back now."

And he stood, pulled Claire to her feet, and hugged her to him.

He was home.


	2. Next Steps and Reminisces

Claire staggered through to the shower, and set the water slightly colder than normal in an attempt to wake quickly. She'd barely slept, and felt it. Even after settling Brian on the couch, she'd lain awake in bed, turning stuff over in her mind again and again.

Strangely, the easiest to accept was Brian's reappearance. She'd always believed that mysterious disappearances and stuff like that never happened to guys like Brian – he was far too grounded, too sensible for that. Obviously, she now knew different, but she'd never really doubted that he would come back one day.

The news of John had hit her far harder. Despite the way his behavior had forced them apart like a wedge being driven between them, she'd never fully been able to leave her feelings alone. Even when she'd married Andy, and gone through the 'till death us do part' charade. And now she knew where he was – only a phone-call away.

Stepping under the water, she shuddered at the coolness, and her skin prickled. The chill drops falling on her breasts allowed her to lie to herself that it was the temperature, not the thoughts of past love that caused her nipples to harden and tighten. But her mind still wandered back to John, and the first time they had been together, her very first time.

It had been four weeks after they had first met, just a month after that fateful day with Vernon in detention. The late fall had brought chill winds off the lakes, and the whole of Illinois had started to batten down in anticipation of another harsh winter.

They were walking back from a party, their arms locked together, and with collars hitched up against the wind. Even though only a mile or so from her home, Claire's cheeks were red and stinging against the cold, and she shivered against John's heavy leather coat. She could tell from his voice that the cold was getting to him as well, and when the rain began to fall hard, they knew that the best thing they could do was to find shelter and sit it out.

The street they were on was in one of those rich suburban areas, with big detached homes and large gardens. Although most were securely locked up, one had an open gate to the back yard. Peering through, John noticed a large tree at the back, and sat on the lower branched was one of the biggest tree-houses he'd ever seen. He called back to Claire, and together they ran for the rope ladder and quickly pulled themselves up and out of the rain. John dragged the ladder inside and closed the trap-door.

In one corner of the house was an old wooden chest, which on investigation held blankets, children's games, and at the very bottom a bag containing s few not very well hidden copies of Playboy magazine. John dragged the blankets out onto the floor, and then looked up at Claire.

"You're soaked through. You need to get out of those clothes before you get pneumonia."

Claire barely hesitated. The cold had started to bite through to her bones, and she was struggling to control the shakes. Before John had a chance to offer up a blanket as cover, she shucked off her boots and jacket, and started to unfasten her jeans. Looking over, she saw that water was still dripping off of Johns hair, and his shirt and jeans were plastered to his skin.

"You too…." Claire stammered.

A minute or two later, they sat huddled together, blankets around their shoulders. Claire still couldn't help but shiver, her teeth chattering involuntarily. John reached over and wrapped his blanket around them both, pulling her closer to him.

Despite the cold, Claire had been increasingly aware of John's scent. He normally smelled of old leather, cigarettes and sweat. Close to, with nothing but a pair of shorts for cover, the odor was almost painfully overwhelming for her. She'd wondered over the past month how far they would go, given the right opportunity. Would she hold back, keeping him at arm's length and saving her most precious possession for the man she married? If so, would he back off? Or would she give herself up to the feelings now running wild through her mind, her body, her heart?

What if John held back? She'd never considered him a gentleman, but he had shown that he could be gentle, when it mattered. And would that mean that she might have to make the move first?

Claire breathed deeply through her nose, trying to draw as much of his scent into her. She rested her head against his chest, and slowly relaxed into him, letting his arms envelop her, his hands that had been rubbing her back to coax feeling and warmth, but that now turned to give gentle caresses along her shoulders, arms, and neck.

Suddenly, his hand stopped its movement. Claire understood why immediately.

The blanket around her shoulders had slipped under John's hand, and he was suddenly sat with his arm around her, fingers curled round and onto the side of her breast. It was as if they had both suddenly become aware of his more intimate touch. Any movement by John would draw more attention to where he was holding her, and the last thing Claire wanted right then was to cut into this moment.

Claire slowly raised her head, and looked into his eyes. It was like looking at a child – uncertain, scared, but longing and wanting. At that moment, all of her reservations evaporated, Reaching up around his head, she gently pulled him down towards her mouth.

Looking back now, it's barely seems possible that time can both go so quickly, and seem to stand still at the same time. She knew that they had kissed, that his hands had moved over her body, and that at the point that his lips first found her breasts, she had worked her eagerly searching fingers under the waistband of his shorts. She remembered that for a man so strong, his touch had been almost unbearably soft and that when he finally covered her and entered her, it was as if the rough blankets and wooden floor were the finest feather-filled quilts.

She remembered feeling completely in his power, yet at the same time as much in control of him as she ever did – that every time he moved within her, sometimes slowly, at other times with more force and pace, it was as much a compulsion for him as it was a conscious act of giving pleasure to her. Their whole world had shrunk to a single twelve-foot square wooden platform, outside which the storm continued unabated, but inside which the only two people in existence responded only to the needs and acts of the other.

Her climax, when it struck, gave her an almost electrical charge. Her body arched up towards his, and her sinews stiffened and held her still, unable for an instant to speak or breathe. It was all so different to the self-induced efforts of a fumbling teenager, ever cautious of parents sleeping the other side of paper-thin walls. This was the real deal, and nothing would come close again.

As she relaxed, John withdrew and rolled away. She realized that he had still not finished, and had moved away to take care of himself. Claire sat up, and reached over his body to rest a hand on his and bring it to rest.

"Let me? Please?"

A sudden noise from outside bought Claire back to the present. She had long since adjusted to the cooler water, and found herself sat on the shower floor, her fingers caressing her flesh as her mind replayed her past in vivid detail.

Breathing deeply, she turned the water off and reached for her towel.

Brian had slept better – in fact, better than he had done in a while. For him, this journey had started a long time ago, and was nearing its end. And he'd been on the road for seven hours to get to Claire's house. It was no wonder that he was still asleep when Claire came down. He'd kicked the quilt onto the floor in the night, and Claire, still processing the memories that flooded back, stood by the door and watched him sleep.

Brian had a special place in her heart – at first she hadn't understood him at all, aware that his social circle and hers never touched. She'd known people like Brian existed, but they were the ones that you kind of ignored whenever you were forced into the same room. Some kids were cool by what they did; his peers were uncool through what they _were_ – the way they dressed, spoke, and when they dared, the way they looked at you.

Brian had helped her to understand what life was liked when nobody wanted to know you. She could still remember the sting she felt when he'd snapped that day, hurling back in her face all the words that she'd spoken but never realized were so hurtful, so insulting. How all of his crowd looked up to the popular kids, and how living up to the standard was so difficult to handle. She'd been shocked like never before when Brian threw it all back at her. She'd have expected it from John, and Andy and Allison would have left her hurt, but not surprised. Brian's reaction cut through all the crappy exterior image and ripped at her very being. Everything she knew, her whole social order, was turned upside down when one of the geeky kids slammed into a princess.

Since that day, she'd seen more of a change in Brian than in any of the others. And in a lot of ways the man lying on her couch was a different person to the one who'd helped her get that extra six percent in math that made all the difference to her GPA. Physically, he was more toned, more muscular than before. Gone was the scrawny, weak-looking kid she'd first met. He'd also matured mentally, and although Claire knew that the experiences he'd talked about last night were enough to make anyone stronger, she also understood that the man she saw before her was born from the boy she met in detention.

Suddenly, she realized that Brian's eyes were open, and looking at her. Her skin reddened slightly, embarrassed at being caught watching him sleep. But then his face cracked into a gentle smile, and he raised a hand slightly in greeting.

"Morning. Any coffee going?"

"Sure thing. I'll go set it brewing."

Claire turned to go, then paused, and turned back to Brian. Walking over to the couch, she knelt and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're here, Bri. I missed you…"

"I know, and I'm sorry for all that. But now I'm back, and very grateful."

Claire leaned back to look into his face.

"Grateful?" she asked. "What for?"

"For you just being you, I guess. Anything could have happened when I called you. You might have been away. You might have resented me for disappearing. There were a hundred reasons why you might not have opened the door. Trust me, I'd thought them all."

Claire bent forward and gently kissed his forehead. Her right hand brushed his hair back away from his face.

"There's nothing you could ever do that would make me act like that, Bri. Now, let me get that coffee started. Bathrooms upstairs on the right, towels on the side. Go get washed, you smell like a hitchhiker!"

Claire stood, and tried her best not to laugh as she caught sight of Brian sniffing his armpits on the way upstairs. She failed totally…..

Twenty minutes later, Brian stood by the pot refilling his cup. They had lapsed into silence, as both of them knew that decisions had to be made.

"What first, Bri?" asked Claire finally, after he had sat back at the table and stirred his coffee for the millionth time.

"I should go see Mom and Dad, but I can't face them first. There's a whole bunch of conversations that I really don't want to have right now."

"What about the police?"

"Huh?" For a moment, Brian looked confused, and then it registered what Claire meant. "Oh, The drug thing. I guess I ought to, but what if they want me to stay there? What if they call my parents to come get me?"

"Then what?"

"Well, I spoke to Andy on the telephone, and you know where John is. I guess the only one I've not yet seen is Allison. Whereabouts is this farm?"

"Iowa – it's around a three hour drive from here, just across the border. You want to call her?"

Brian shook his head "No, I was hoping for a surprise visit. Turning up on someone's doorstep always works best. At least, it did for me – and John, I guess. Hey - you able to get away from work?"

"Should be no problem – I'm owed vacation, and my boss has been ragging on me to take some time out. Lemme go call her."

Five minutes later, Claire was back.

"All organized. Starting now, I have two weeks off, and nothing to do but hang with you."

Brian smiled. "Well I'm packed up and ready to go, but I really think you should go get dressed before we head off!"

Claire moved as if to swat him around the head before, laughing as she went, climbing the stairs to dress and pack.

It was early afternoon when they finally pulled off the main road and headed down the dirt track that led to the farmhouse. It was bright but cold, with remnants of last night's rain hanging in the air.

Claire pulled the car into the gate, and braked. Looking ahead, she could see that something wasn't right. The door was ajar, and alongside the porch a broken window was simply the most obvious sign of disrepair. Last time she had been out to visit, the place had been freshly painted, with flowers in all the window-boxes and the fences had all been treated to a new coat of whitewash. This time, the dirt in front of the steps was scuffed, and garbage blew freely across the yard.

Claire was halfway out of the car door before Brian grasped her arm and dragged her back. Signaling her to wait, he got out and carefully looked around, before making his way slowly towards the house. As he started to climb the steps, he felt Claire's hand slip into his, he turned and motioned for her to stay quiet. Pushing the door with his toe, he stepped slowly inside, checking out the rooms to his left and right. All empty.

He left the staircase alone for now, and walked gently past towards the door at the back, which could only have been the kitchen.

The door was slightly open, and through the gap, he caught sight of a figure at the table. He gestured Claire over, and she took a look. When she got there, she couldn't stop the gasp escaping her throat. She pushed the door open.

"Ally?" said Claire, stepping into the room.

Allison jolted alert, and turned her face towards the sound. Her eyes were red and puffy with tears, and the sight of her friend served only to bring on another outburst.

Claire ran over ans hugged Allison tight to her, letting her cry. She glanced over towards Brian, still stood by the door, but he held up an open palm to stall any mention of his presence, and slowly backed out of sight. Claire heard the creak of his step out on the porch, and turned her attention back to Allison. There would be a time for revealing Brian soon, but this wasn't it.

As Allison sobbed, Claire wondered what could have happened, and why….,


	3. Taking A Deep Breath

Brian sat on the hood of the car, and looked around. On the way down, Claire had described the farm to him – the animals, the produce around the back, the friendly locals. She'd told him all about Mike, the guy Allison had married. College footballer, scholarship, loads of promise, until a knee injury in a nothing game had slammed the door on any career in sport. That must have been an extra source of pain for Andy, thought Brian. Passing over one athlete for another hammered home that it was most likely who he was, and not what he did, that Allison turned down. After that, Mike had taken on work on his father's farm, before getting his own place when they got married.

All in all, Claire had managed to make it sound pretty much the perfect life, the idyllic location that it should have been. What he saw now was nothing like that.

The house was far from pristine. All the maintenance jobs which should have been done in preparation for the coming winter were barely even started. Much of the produce in the large vegetable patch around the back had simply rotted on the ground. There were fences which were damaged, or at least needed painting to prevent damage from rain and frost. A window on the upper floor of the house was damaged, and hung on its remaining hinge at an angle. But in a way, these were merely superficial signs of neglect. Off to the right there were two barns, from which a distinct aroma of animal came over. Jumping down, he walked over to the nearest barn, and kicked the door open with his toe.

Inside, tied up or lying in stalls, were around a dozen animals – mainly horses and pigs, with a couple of cows. All were beginning to show some signs of neglect – nothing too bad at the moment, but a lack of clean water and food (not to mention milking) allied with stalls that needed a serious clean, would start to spell disease and ill-health very soon.

Looking around him, Brian saw a hosepipe running from a large water tank, and piles of dry straw and feed over in the corner. It was clear that this neglect wasn't deliberate, because there were signs that someone had made superficial attempts at feeing the animals. It was simply down to whatever circumstances Claire was facing in the house. Brian's experience of women in his life had almost designed him to be better equipped to deal with this situation rather than the one which they had found in the kitchen. And although it wasn't a job he would have chosen, Brian shrugged off his jacket, picked up the hosepipe and a shovel, and set to work.

Inside, Claire had set about her own clean up task. She'd fetched a bowl of water and a cloth, and was working on cleaning Allison's face. She recalled the first time she'd done this task, with cosmetic wipes and as a precursor to repainting the canvas her way. This time, it was simply an act of care and love, as she tried to help Allison to a point where she would talk about things.

"Talk to me, Ally. Tell me. What's the matter."

Allison, staring off through the window into the distance, started rocking slowly rocking back and forth. Claire put the water aside, held her friend's hands, and sat quietly, waiting.

Finally, a quiet voice told its tale….

"He's gone. Just… gone."

"When did this happen, Ally?" asked Claire gently.

"Friday…"

Claire tried to equate the disrepair she'd seen outside with the fact that Allison's husband had only been gone for four days. It was clear that this was the end of the story, but far from the beginning.

"Last time I was here, everything was so good for you. The place looked wonderful, and you were so happy."

Allison said nothing, just stared out the window across the fields, and Claire knew that this one would take time to come out.

Outside, Brian was covered in dust, mud, sweat, and other stuff he tried not to think about. Over the past three hours, he'd discovered just how hard it is to learn milking on cows desperate to be milked, and despite giving the animals the relief they craved, the buckets held less milk than had found the floor. Changing feed and water had been easy enough, but clearing out the soiled hay and washing the animals down had proved a bigger task than he'd realized. He had stepped out into the sunshine to grab some fresh air and a drink, when he saw Claire leading Allison slowly down the front steps. It was clear that things were not good with his friends.

Claire saw him, and leaned in towards Allison to whisper. As she looked up and over in his direction, Brian raised a palm in greeting, unconsciously mirroring the nerdy way he used to stand all those years before.

Allison stared for a few seconds, then slowly took a step towards him. A second step followed the first, and her stumbling walk turned into a run and hug that knocked Brian back a yard. Well, at least that was one surprise this afternoon that went well, thought Claire.

An hour later they were back on the road. Claire had called in at a neighboring farm, and they had agreed to move the animals over for a few weeks, until the issues were clearer. Allison had simply let her friends take over. Claire had packed a bag, whilst Brian had looked the house over, making sure all the doors and windows were secure.

Brian drove, whilst Claire and Allison sat in the back. Within two miles, Allison was asleep, her head resting on Claire's lap, and Claire stroked her friend's hair.

"So much for the happy homecoming" said Brian, an ironic smile playing on his face.

"What do you mean?" asked Claire softly.

"Just think of what I could have found when I came back. I get Andy off travelling the country, still sounding bitter and angry. I find you more settled, but then I find the reason for his attitude involves you so much. John's just moving around, when he should have settled by now. It's like he still doesn't know what he wants. And now Ally….. "

"I know some of it, Bri" answered Claire. "It started-"

"No, don't tell me" interrupted Brian. "That's for her to share, when she's ready. I don't need to know details, only that she's alright."

Claire turned her head to gaze out across the fields, turning ever more golden in the setting sunshine. Such a wonderful place. Not the place for heartache and betrayal…..

"She's not alright, Brian. Not at all…"

"She will be" said Brian softly, staring at the road ahead. "She's got you….."

Claire turned to look at the back of Brian's head. In some ways he'd not changed at all. He still didn't seem to place any value on the things he said, or the way he helped people. He didn't realize how much he would be missed if he wasn't there – how much he _was_ missed.

Maybe it had taken his disappearance to make his friends realize just what he meant to them. Or was it just that she was seeing him in a new light after all these years?

When they reached Claire's house, Allison was still sleeping. She'd stirred a couple of times on the journey, as if a bad dream was disturbing her, but she had quickly settled again. She didn't rouse at all when Brian lifted her from the car and carried her upstairs to the spare room.

Leaving Claire to see to her and get her to bed, Brian walked downstairs into the kitchen and made coffee. He grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter, carried his cup through to the living room, and gazed around at the accumulated photographs, trinkets and memories built over twenty years or more.

His eyes were drawn to a silver framed photograph on a shelf in the corner. He remembered the day that picture was taken – a week before he left for college.

The five of them had been 'introduced' to John's entrance to the school grounds, at the back of the football field behind the scoreboard. It seemed strange, being back on school property. A few weeks earlier, they had graduated (well, four of them had graduated, and John had successfully attended his last detention session) and none of them had been back on the campus since that day. But knowing that they would soon be drifting off to different colleges, jobs, and cities meant that there was really only one place they could go to take the picture.

They had walked across the football field, the late summer sunshine casting long shadows across the turf. All five linked arms, with Brian in the center between the two girls, and John and Andy flanking them. When they reached the main school building, John's unique 'skills' soon got them past the locked door and non-existent security alarm, and finally they were back in the school library.

Balancing the camera on a desk, they tried a number of poses. First they sat along the rail separating the main seating area from the raised corridor around the outside of the room. They then set the camera at the front of the hall and sat back at the same desks they had taken the day they really first met. They shot a whole reel that afternoon, capturing reminders of the events of that fateful Saturday morning.

As did his four friends, Brian had a copy of all the photographs. This one was a favorite of his, the five striking what they all thought of as 'cool' poses. John sat at the back, in what he believed made him look 'tough but thoughtful'. Andy knelt on the right; a typical wrestler pose, as if he was gathered with the rest of the squad for a team mug-shot. Allison was to his right, made up as she had been that day in black eye-liner, black mascara, and a baggy black sweater which completely obscured the slim but rapidly developing body underneath. Claire lounged on her side in the front, head propped up on one hand, staring as the others were straight into the camera, as if throwing a challenge to anyone seeing the image.

Brian sat in the center of the group. In a way, this shot said everything about his life since that day. He was surrounded by strength, anger, anxiety, beauty, wealth, privilege, effort, and struggle. It touched him, framed him, defined his boundaries, and ultimately molded him into the man he had become.

There were a number of other photographs from the same day, arranged in frames or pinned to a board. Surely…. Aah, he thought. There it is.

Tucked in a corner, semi-hidden, was the one he remembered most of all. It was a solo shot of Claire, smiling but with her eyes cast downwards. That's where his eyes always went as well – down to the red lipstick tube wedged in her cleavage.

He remembered how nervous she had been when she first revealed this as her 'party trick', and chuckled to himself at the memory.

He heard footsteps enter the room, and a moment later Claire was beside him, her arm went around his waist and she leant into him.

"How is she? Asleep?" he asked.

"Not at the moment" replied Claire. "She's unpacking her bag. Said that she wanted to start to organize stuff, start doing things herself. She'll be down in a while."

"If I get in the way, and you two need some time…" offered Brian, but Claire cut him off with a sharp squeeze, and turned him to face her.

"You don't need to go anywhere, Brian. From now, this is as much your home as anybody's. After all this time, I couldn't see you walk out again. Not even for a moment – not yet. I need you around me, to help me, to let me know what I should be doing."

Brian frowned slightly.

"But I can't help you with Allison, Claire. I wouldn't even know where to start. Besides, there's still my stuff I need to sort out."

"You are helping" Claire replied, "just by being here. Believe it or not, the best thing that's happened in Allison's life for a few weeks now is when she saw you today. She's still very quiet, but the one question she's asked was about you….."

Claire raised her hand to his face, her fingers tracing the line from his jaw up to his right ear, where they ruffled his hair a little. Brian raised his hand to cover hers, and hold it still. They stood, looking into each other's eyes, and the seconds drew out.

"I…"

Just as they were either going to act or get embarrassed, there was a quiet cough from the doorway behind them.

They turned to see Allison stood there, watching them. She couldn't have been there too long. Claire and Brian quickly pulled apart, both of them wondering what Allison might have seen, and thought. In truth, both of them were as surprised as the other over what had just sparked between them. Back at school, both of the girls had known only too well that Brian found them attractive, but there hadn't been anything to suggest that his feelings were at all mirrored in his friends.

However, Ally was still dealing with her own raw emotions to take anything in. She had made an effort to clean herself up, and it dawned on Brian that this was the first time in his life that he'd seen her with no makeup on whatsoever. The male within him couldn't help but register just how pretty she was, when the mask was removed and all you saw was her.

Claire walked towards the door, stopping briefly to rest a hand on Allison's shoulder, and then she passed through to the kitchen to make some food and more coffee. She heard her friends, as they passed through gentle sobs, through huge body-wracking tears, to silence, and whispered conversation.

She smiled to herself as she returned to her sandwiches. No help? Who was Brian kidding? He's….

Brian…

It dawned on her that there was another conversation she'd be having soon enough – just as soon as she had worked out what she would say.


	4. The Truth

Brian sat with Allison on the couch, hands clasped, their heads bowed so that their foreheads rested against the other. It was like their own little bubble, where everything else in the world became separate and only the two of them existed. In here there was no pretense, no need to be strong, no need and no place to hide. And slowly, Brian heard the whole story.

Mike, Allison's husband, had been the perfect guy, exactly as Claire had seen. He was handsome, strong, intelligent, hard-working, basically everything a girl hoped for. They had moved to the farm, settled down, and looked forward to a life surrounded by chickens, crops, kids and grand-kids. It was all in sharp contrast to the dark, moody Allison that they first knew, but she'd adapted incredibly well to her new life, as if she'd been born to it.

Life itself, however, didn't exactly run smoothly. Chickens and crops were easy to get, but for some reason, the kids didn't show up. For a few years, Allison and Mike were happy with each other, but no matter what they did – or how often they tried – Allison didn't conceive. The hospital couldn't fathom a reason – all of the tests that they ran came back negative, and there didn't seem to be a cause for something which, slowly but surely, chipped away at their idyllic life.

As the cracks appeared, something changed within Mike. Allison began to see a darker, less caring side to him. He began to drink more, either at home in front of the television or in bars at the nearest town. When it reached the point when he was drunk more nights than he was sober, it only took a single, innocent comment from Allison….

Mike was distraught, never believing himself capable of hitting his wife. Yet her face showed the truth. Once the shock had passed, they sat and talked, and he finally opened up to her about how he felt, how he thought himself somehow 'damaged'. First was the knee injury which halted his promising football career in its tracks. That one moment defined a change in his entire life. After that, everything he did, everything he touched, seemed somehow to be second best, in some way inferior to the life and lifestyle he could have had.

Then he met Allison, and for a long time it looked as if perfection had once more come to him. She was beautiful, kind, caring, and loved him completely.

Despite assuring her that he was OK, he was floored when they couldn't … when SHE couldn't give him the son he craved. Despite the doctors drawing a blank, he was convinced that the problem wasn't with him.

Mike had secretly visited medical centers in other towns, and paid money they could ill afford to get more tests done, and still the results came back negative. He was fine. And in his mind, the thought grew that either Allison was the cause, or the combination of Allison and Mike wasn't the perfect biological match that stared back at him from every wedding picture, taunting him every time he looked at them.

And the drinking remained – for a while in secret, but eventually it all came out into the open. He did little or nothing around the farm, and whilst Allison did as much as she could, there wasn't enough time or strength in her to do everything alone. Finally, she came in from feeding the animals to find him packing a bag. On the table was a half-empty bottle of bourbon, and somehow she knew to stay back. He told her about the doctors, and yelled at her for being 'incapable of producing' his child. Then he dropped the biggest bombshell: he'd been seeing another woman.

Allison hadn't waited to hear any details. She had turned and ran. Down the stairs and out of the door, she ran past the barns and out to the furthest perimeter fence. Ten minutes later, she heard the truck start up, and a cloud of dust kicked up along the track to the main road. As the noise of the vehicle's engine died away, something died within her as well.

Somewhat symbolically, it began to rain as she slowly walked back to the house. He'd left the door hanging open, but on the table she'd found the scrawled note that seemed to firmly close the door on their marriage.

The 'other woman' was carrying his child…

After that, Allison had switched into automatic mode. Somehow she had kept herself going, sometimes she'd slept and ate, but she really didn't recall anything. It was like the outer shell had done the few things that needed doing for survival, whilst inside she slowly died.

And that was how Claire and Brian had found her, four days later. Had they not arrived when they did, who could say how much longer she would have sat there.

Brian knew that there was one question which needed to be asked. Otherwise, the task of looking after Allison would be that much harder, possibly even beyond their capability.

"Ally – when you were alone, before we got there – you never thought about…"

Allison flicked her tear-sodden eyes up to his face.

"Suicide?"

Brian nodded, red-faced.

"Once or twice. It was worst at night, when the silence got too intense. Things were easier during the day, when I could hear traffic, or birds. At night – it gets so quiet out there that all you can do is sit and think. And that was the toughest part of it all. I couldn't escape from my thoughts. A couple of times, I felt so bad that I'd almost believe that it would be better to feel nothing…"

Brian gently squeezed Allison's hands.

"Ally, listen to me" he whispered. "You're far too special and important for that. What happened was all his fault, not yours. All he's done is proved that you're far too good for him. You're kind, and caring, and gentle, and strong, and beautiful, and loved. I've never met your husband, but I do know that if he was capable of hurting you and leaving you, then he's a fucking idiot, because nobody with any sense would have someone like you in their life and piss it all away."

At this point, the tears started again, and the two friends held each other tightly, letting time pass and emotions release.

Claire stood by the doorway, watching in silence. She didn't know how long it would take, but it looked like the healing process had begun….


	5. The Crowded House

It was the next morning. Despite fears that Allison's slumber would be broken by her recent demons, she had slept deeply, for the first time in weeks. When she woke, it took a moment to remember exactly where she was. The unfamiliar room, with its contemporary décor so different from the rustic feel of her own house, woke her with suddenness as she recalled the events of the previous day with full clarity.

Being discovered in such a state of utter desolation had been, in hindsight, both truly terrible and also (because of who had found her) possibly the best thing that could have happened. There were few people in her life that she completely trusted – actually, at the moment make that just two people – and to know that they were with her and knew everything was a great comfort to her.

Allison glanced at the alarm clock, and saw that it was a little after six-thirty. On the farm, waking at this time would have been termed a sleep-in at best, and slovenly at worst. She stretched, and sat up, swinging her legs round to stand up. She'd been given spare night-clothes by Claire, but hadn't used them. Although she had accepted the offer with a smile, she'd become used to sleeping naked, and somehow the thought of wearing someone else's clothes to bed was a step too far away from her old, 'normal' life.

Grabbing a towel from the table by the window, she paused for a moment, and listened. Hearing nothing, she opened the door and walked slowly and quietly over to the bathroom at the top of the staircase.

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, she thought she heard the creak of a floorboard, but dismissed it as an effect of temperature changes as the heating system kicked in.

Half-way up the stairs, Brian was frozen to the spot. He'd woken an hour ago, and lay on the couch with the events of the past few days running through his mind, from the day John walked into the diner in his Canadian hideaway, through to the revelations of last night. Ultimately, his bladder had demanded some attention, and he had reluctantly arisen and started climbing the stairs. The sight which met his eyes stopped him in his tracks.

In their younger days, before the 'club' split to go their separate ways, he'd always felt an attraction towards both Claire and Allison. At the time it was very much a youthful crush – certainly not love, and in many ways it was brought about by the fact that these two girls were the only females outside of his family that he ever spoke to, on anything like a normal level. But the way they would act around him, talk to him, and even touch him (in what was always an entirely innocent way) promoted these two in his mind into objects of intense desire. He knew that they were still beyond his level, attached as they were to the other two boys, but that was, in every way that really mattered, absolutely fine. They were there. That's what counted. And they treated him as a friend, and didn't laugh when he blushed, or even (he now knew) when they saw how aroused he sometimes became around them.

That was his problem now. The sudden, unexpected view of Allison, completely nude, walking across in front of him, had not simply brought heat to his face. Cotton shorts were not the best underwear for hiding an erection, and his were not helping the situation at all. He closed his eyes and the image of Allison remained seared into his vision. Her skin was pale and smooth, her breasts small and firm, pink-tipped and with not a hint of sag, her stomach, whilst not fully flat was at least well defined, and the dark shock of hair below neatly trimmed. As she turned into the bathroom, Brian was presented with the most perfect behind he thought he'd ever seen. He'd always been a man attracted to a woman's behind, and from his position, slightly lower than her knees, she took his breath away. Her ass was firm, with a slight bounce that heightened his attraction, and he could clearly see the cleft between her thighs as her legs parted slightly as she walked.

Suddenly, a hand lay gently on his shoulder, causing him to jolt back to reality.

Claire had silently descended the stars to him, having seen the whole thing through her open bedroom door. She'd heard Allison leave her room, and glanced over to make sure she was ok. Seeing her naked was a shock, but nothing she'd not seen before, when the two shared rooms in college. Back then, the girls couldn't help but see each other running to or from the shower. But this was different, after the passing of the years, and in her own house.

As Allison had entered the bathroom, Claire had got up, pulling on a gown and heading towards the kitchen for coffee. Rounding the top of the stairs, she'd seen Brian, his eyes closed, and a man's most obvious sign of arousal basically pointing straight at her. Every time he'd been caught like this before, his pants had helped to keep his 'embarrassment' under some kind of control, but now he didn't have their help.

Claire stood for perhaps thirty seconds, wondering again at the change in him, from the geeky, weak, nervous kid she had first met, into the man that stood deep in private thought before her now. He'd grown in more ways than one, the reflected.

As she reached him and touched his shoulder, his eyes flashed open, and for an instant he seemed lost in shock. Claire just smiled at him, and waited for him to say something. Brian was about to talk, but then a realization hit both of them. His surprise at her sudden touch had caused him to move forward slightly, and whilst his chest had brushed against the mounds of her breasts under her robe, the tip of his hard penis, freed from the opening in the front of his shorts, was resting against Claire's thigh.

Brian was mortified. His legs refused to work, and all words had fled his mind.

Claire slowly dropped her gaze, past where she touched him at two points, to where he was touching her at one. Oh my, she thought…

Brian stepped back, still almost painfully erect, and made the space for her to pass. Claire was grateful for this, and walked by with a barely hidden smile. However, she simply couldn't resist reaching out a hand as she passed, giving Brian's penis a gentle squeeze as she left him standing on the stair, completely frozen.

Slowly Brian emerged from the stupor that had gripped him, and once more became aware of his surroundings. He glanced down towards the kitchen, but couldn't see Claire as she bustled around, making coffee and breakfast. Then he glanced upstairs.

Allison stood there, still wet from the shower and wrapped in a towel that was only just large enough to cover her from breast to crotch, staring down at his exposed and still very erect penis.

She smiled at him, gave a slightly embarrassed wave, and turned away into her room.


	6. Facing Up to Feelings

30 minutes later, Brian sheepishly tip-toed into the kitchen. Allison and Claire were both there, sipping coffee in silence. Brian glanced at them, struggling to keep the color from his face, but they didn't look up, for which he was grateful. He walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup, added sugar, and turned to head out of the door, when Claire spoke.

"How about calling on your parents today, Brian?" she asked.

Brian hesitated, but still didn't look over.

"Uh… yeah. That's probably a good idea. I should do that…." he said, realizing immediately that it would give him a reason to get some space between him and the girls. The events of that morning had transformed him back to the shy, self-conscious teenage boy they knew all those years before. The experiences and maturity that he had gained had fallen away, revealing once more the geeky kid who aced all his classes but couldn't face the terrors of talking to girls.

"I can come with you if you like" Claire offered. Brian quickly shook his head.

"No! I need to do this alone."

He immediately realized that his response was harsh and his voice had risen close to a shout. He turned now, and looked over at Claire.

"I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to yell. Thanks, but I ought to start getting stuff done, and I don't know what they will think if they know I came to you before them. Not before I get the chance to explain, anyway…."

Claire nodded and smiled, and Brian quickly left the kitchen, grateful that he had no need to suffer any awkward conversations about the morning's occurrences. A few minutes later, the girls heard the front door open and close behind him.

It was probably for the best that Brian hadn't realized that the 'awkward conversation' had already been covered between the two girls whilst he was having his shower. Claire and Allison both knew of Brian's attraction for them back in their school and college days, but being presented with such a prominent reminder of it that morning had, at the very least, been a surprise.

Both seemed to have independently reached the same conclusion about Brian, and whilst talking about it, they thought about the other guys as well, in a manner that had never rely been discussed before.

When Claire had told Brian before that the girls not only knew of the effect they had on him, but had even grown to enjoy and appreciate it, she was being truthful. She was starting to realize, however, that this was only the partial truth.

Since Brian's reappearance, she'd been thinking a lot about him. And, she admitted to Allison, she had found herself comparing him with the other men in her life.

Over the years, there had been relationships, some better than others, no one-night-stands, but nothing that ever seemed to last more than a month or so. There always seemed to be something, some reason why moving on was a better option than settling down again.

She had thought of Andy, and of how their love, their marriage, grew from a mutual need into which love and commitment spread. But what she had thought was a direction, a path, turned out to be a rut, and one that was approaching divergence. Andy's life had simply taken him down a different groove, and when all was said and the marriage over, she realized that what she needed was someone who wanted to be with her over and above all else. And that Andy, for all his strengths, valued his career and his sport over everything, and had to go before he started to get resentful.

She had thought of John. John was…. well, John was something else. When they first got together, John was the boy you loved because your parents hated. John was the statement of intent to a world that had forced her to dress nice, smile, pay your way with Daddy's credit card, and act at all times just like the little princess everyone said you were. When John came along, she was ready to bust out of the stereotype, but it took his presence for her to cross the line. And when she was with John, sparks sure flew in all directions. She had learned that he could be as gentle as he was tough, as caring as he was careless. And this, while it lasted, gave her a thrill she'd never experienced before, and rarely felt since. The problem was, living life on the edge always carried an inherent danger of falling off, and John wasn't the best at balancing. Claire had realized this long before John was finally arrested, and then put away. She knew that the theft he'd been picked up for was only the tip of the iceberg as far as John was concerned, and had broken the relationship three months before. John had accepted this with his usual throwaway attitude, and never pushed her for any more reasons or explanations. He'd just moved on. There had been other girls, joined at his arm and shoulder for very brief interludes, and right up to the day he was arrested, not a word about their relationship beyond the joking responses to any question he felt uncomfortable with.

Allison had never been completely comfortable with John. In her youthful, basket-case persona, she had been able to observe many of her fellow students, generally from close by, as she tended to get ignored pretty much all of the time. And she's noticed John Bender very early in her time at Shermer High as a dangerous man. There were just too many signs and signals being broadcast for him to be anything otherwise. The events of their detention together, and the weeks following, had given her cause to believe that it was all an act, that what he needed was someone to care and to care for. And for a while, Claire had been that person. All too soon, however, the old persona started to reassert itself, and she watched as the John that Claire knew and saw disappeared whenever she was not around, and the old behavior re-emerged. At first it was all about the attitude, but this quickly progressed to aggressiveness, minor misdemeanors, and finally the association with the gangs and into actual theft. Once Claire finally understood and dumped him, he didn't even bother to pretend any more. He never tried anything with Allison beyond the low-level flirting that he obviously felt was expected of him, but she always wondered whether today was the day that he would really kick off. She certainly wasn't at all surprised when he was arrested. He'd been a gaol statistic waiting to happen for years.

Allison had known about Claire and Andy, of course. She had been the one to help her friend through the process of the divorce, always remaining in the background whenever Andy was around and never allowing herself to be alone with him. Claire had told her all about the way he reacted when she'd first met Mike, and after she had moved away. She didn't know how he might act if there was nobody around to give him cause to hold back. As it was, he never directed a single comment to her. She'd caught him looking her way several times, but he'd never said anything, and never did anything towards her at all. And then, he was out on the road and she was back on the farm.

And then, for both of them, there was Brian.

There was no doubt that Brian had grown in confidence and stature since he'd headed off to college. The years of self-reliance had bulked out his previously scrawny frame, so that now he wouldn't look so out of place alongside Andy and John as he did when they first met.

The cruel tricks that life had played on him also seemed to have had a positive effect on his character. Rather than becoming obsessed with the end result - usually an A grade - to the point where it made him more likely to fail (the very trait that had landed him in detention that weekend back at Shermer High), now he just got on with things that needed doing. Clearing out the barn and making the farmhouse secure were simply the outward signs of this, but they were things that the younger, less self-assured Brian would never have done, or at least done with any skill.

Allison remembered the patience and tenderness that he had shown her over the past few days. He'd given her and Claire all the space and privacy they had needed when she had first been discovered in the kitchen, and he had not pushed or asked for any details – not until she had indicated that she was ready to tell him.

He had sat quietly, and let her explain everything to him, without questioning her or interrupting at all, until she was done. And when the questions did come, even the hardest questions of all, he asked them in such a gentle manner, always caring and never in the least judging her.

Later, he had told her of his problems at college and afterwards, and the pair had sat and held each other, not wanting to break the moment until the clock above the fire chimed. They looked into each other's eyes and the fatigue was clear. Allison had leaned forward and gently kissed Brian, and with a whispered "Thank you…." she stood and went up to her room.

This wasn't the Brian they had known before.

Claire had seen that the night he had turned up, although there were still moments when the inner geek broke through. She recalled that the first sight he had of her was standing, naked to the waist, framed in her bedroom window. An event that would have caused her to run screaming from the room twenty years before, had brought nothing except mild embarrassment, and when she recalled it now she was surprised that she had started to think about Brian in a new way. Far from the distain and dismissive attitude she effected when they first met, different even from the slightly funny excitement that the girls shared whenever they saw Brian's face flush at the sight of one of them bending to tie a shoe. This was serious thoughts about the man and what it would be like to hold him, to kiss him, to make love with him. She knew that he was…. capable. The experience that morning on the stairs had shown that all too clearly. And she knew that he was still very much attracted to her – well, to them both. Which might bring its own problems, Claire realized.

What she was realizing, and what she still wasn't certain how to address, was that this Brian, this new Brian, attracted her as well…..

Across town, the interstate bus pulled up to the sidewalk and opened its doors. Stepping down, the man turned and nodded thanks to the driver, who signaled back with a mock salute, closed the doors, and pulled away into the traffic. After flipping his collar up in a habitual gesture and throwing his back over his shoulder, John Bender turned and walked down the street….


	7. Home?

Claire, for the first time in a week, found herself with pretty much nothing to do.

Brian was over with his parents, and had been all day. He'd sent her a text to let her know that everything was fine, and that he would call her later to tell her how things went.

Allison needed to make some decisions, and had borrowed Claire's car to head into the city. They had discussed the need to get stuff sorted – things like legal ownership of the farm, getting some long-term help in running the place and caring for the livestock. But also, there was the business of her and Mike. Claire had offered to call a lawyer friend who could give at least initial advice about all these things – an offer Allison had gratefully accepted. She had struck lucky – an appointment had opened up for that very afternoon, and so there was little or no time to think about the speed of the steps she was taking.

Claire wandered through the empty afternoon streets on auto-pilot, with the thoughts of the past few days batting around inside her head. The sun shone weakly through a low level of cloud, and the wind began to stir the leaves, hinting at the harsher weather that would sweep in from the lakes in a month or so.

She found herself walking along the path behind their old school, and curiosity led her to the break in the fence, where late-comers had often snuck onto the campus rather than face the ordeal of the main gate, policed as it always was by teachers, janitors or students _of a certain type_. To her surprise, the gap in the wire was still there, and she squeezed herself through, and walked slowly across the sports field. Ahead of her, she saw a few kids running off the football field, mainly the stragglers for whom a final lap of the field after a practice game was a task too far for their scrawny frames.

The field was empty when she reached the goalposts, and she stood for a minute, glancing around at a landscape that had changed very little since her days at the school. She'd not been back since leaving to head out to college, and had missed out on the whole 'school mom' scene.

Suddenly, she became aware that she wasn't entirely alone. A figure sat high up on the bleachers, way over in the far corner, head hunched down against the cold wind. And Claire's breath caught in her throat as she recalled just whose seat that used to be…

Slowly, she walked over to the steps and started to climb. The figure didn't look up, and Claire couldn't tell whether her footsteps on the wooden boards had been heard or felt.

She reached the end of the top-most bench, and knew for certain.

"John?" she softly asked.

John Bender raised his head slowly, and turned to look towards her. He hadn't heard her approach, and until she spoke his name, he had been lost in his own thoughts.

Life had dealt more than its fair share of bad cards to John Bender. Growing up with an abusive father and a scared mother, he'd learned early on to be completely self-reliant, and rarely let his guard down. As soon as he was able, he had dropped out of school, and found employment in a local garage where the owner was less interested in his past than his ability to change tires and make coffee.

He'd never quite made it, though. Age and experience had led him to admit (if only to himself) that at least a half of all the trouble he'd ever got into was down to his own bad choices. He'd decided that the way to protect himself was to put up a wall around himself, one that could clearly only be breached at some cost and plenty of pain. He'd kept his old friends, even when his new friends had offered a way to break the cycle. He'd known that the crimes they were committing were wrong, but went along anyway. And when the cops finally caught up with him, his 'code' hadn't allowed him to plea bargain his sentence down in return for naming names.

In the correctional facility, he'd…. well, he'd survived. He'd learned that there were far meaner, far badder people around than himself, and he was now forced to eat, work, and live with some of them. For the first time in his life, he had been viciously confronted with the reality of his lifestyle, and he survived by learning fast. He'd managed to walk that fine line between not drawing attention to himself and not becoming a target, and somehow good behavior, or a lack of incidents, had led the governor to shorten his sentence by six months.

The first thing he did after his release was to buy a bus ticket. Anywhere, it didn't matter, just so long as they hadn't heard of John Bender. He ended up in Texas, working for a haulage company on trips between Houston, Dallas and Austin. Things were good for a while, and he managed to keep out of trouble. But he'd begun to get restless after a year of driving along the same roads day after day, and so started a life of travelling, never staying in one place for more than six months or so. Just as John managed to avoid getting into trouble, his employers never found out about his past. It was lonely, and sometimes John wondered what it would be like to settle down someplace, but he'd never had a stable home life to reference, and loneliness? Well, there were cures for that too.

Then one day, up in the snow-covered wasteland he'd always imagined Canada to be, he'd walked into a diner, and come face to face with Brian Johnson.

"John?" Claire repeated.

John wasn't really sure how to react – in truth he'd come back to Shermer to find out what could have been. His life, his friends, his reputation, his home – all had seemed a million miles away from the path he took. He knew he couldn't change anything, but since meeting Brian, and hearing his story, there was a nagging question that he simply couldn't let go. For now, John shrugged weakly, and gestured to the bench alongside him.

Claire walked over and sat down. She was stuck for the right words to say almost as much as John appeared to be, and for a while they sat in silence, listening to the wind as it gusted through the steel and wooden structure, and the occasional train siren from the tracks over towards the east.

"How long have you been back?" Claire asked eventually.

"Got in this morning…" John replied, his head still bowed so that his gaze need not meet Claire's. Why her, he asked himself. Why did it have to be Claire that found him? He'd sent a message to Brian earlier, and he'd said that he would meet John here. But no – he had to deal with this completely unprepared.

"Brian told me he'd seen you" said Claire.

What she _wanted_ to say was "John, where the _fuck_ have you been? Why didn't you write, or call, or anything? What's been happening to you?" But she knew from John's demeanor that this wasn't the time. Maybe there would never be a time, but she knew to hold all the questions back, at least for now.

"Yeah. I'm waiting for him."

John raised his head again, and Claire took her first real look at the man she had loved all those years before, the man who had been her first true lover.

Claire was shocked at the gauntness in John's face. He's always been strong, determined, and sure of himself. All she saw now was doubt, fear, fatigue, and most surprisingly, weakness.

She put her arm around his shoulders and drew him closer to her, and they sat, each in their own silent world of questions and confusion.

In her pocket, Claire felt her cellphone vibrate, and carefully lifting it, she saw a message from Brian. "Stay with him. I'll see u later. B"

She glanced up, and saw him over by the goalposts. He waved in acknowledgement, and turned away.

Claire looked back at John. He'd not noticed Brian at all.

Together, they sat atop the bleachers, and quietly waited for the sun to set….


	8. Three Become Four

Allison finally pulled into the drive and cut the engine. She sat for a few minutes, needing to collect her thoughts before going inside and facing the questions she knew would come.

It had been a harrowing afternoon. Claire's lawyer friend, Nathan, had been a nice guy, and had done his best to help Allison through the ordeal, but there had been many, many questions, and whilst it was one thing opening up to her friends, discussing matters with a complete stranger had been far tougher than she'd expected.

Decisions had been made, and processes put in place, to resolve the legal issues. Nathan had drafted an initial divorce petition, after making sure that this was definitely what Allison wanted. She'd been surprised at the question. She'd heard the "time heals all wounds" cliché, but from the moment Mike had told her about the other woman and the baby, she'd known that there was no going back, nor did she want there to be.

Nathan had also asked about the farm, about ownership and what Allison wanted to do, where she wanted to live. She'd not considered this before, and took a few seconds to think about it. However, the thought of going back there was even more unpalatable than the thought of trying to run the farm alone. Everywhere she looked, everything she did, would be a constant reminder of Mike. Not the Mike she knew and loved before, but the drunk, violent, unfaithful man he'd become, had maybe been all the time.

Having decided that she wasn't going back, Nathan suggested that a court order be filed, preventing Mike from returning to the farm or taking anything from the property. This was fairly simple to do – the only difficulty being the need to engage with another lawyer over the state border. Nathan made a quick call to a property lawyer in Davenport who would be able to get things moving quickly.

Then came the question that really shook Allison. When these papers landed in Mike's hands, what would his reaction be? She'd told Nathan about the time he'd hit her before, and although he didn't know where she was living, there was no doubt that he'd be able to track her down if he wanted to, because he would easily guess where she'd go. Nathan asked her to consider adding a restraining order, but Allison had hesitated. There was no doubt that a divorce would suit him, as she knew he wasn't interested in returning – although how he would react to being legally identified as the unfaithful party was less certain. And when he saw the papers relating to the farm… well, the rural dream was as much his as it had been her own. But he did walk away, which meant that, according to Nathan, legal precedent gave her claim to a greater proportion of the property and any resale value.

In the end, the order was filed, giving her home address as the farm. A clause was added to prevent him approaching her closer than fifty yards. Nathan said that this was standard procedure, and that the papers would be filed locally and with the Iowa authorities within the hour. After that, the locals would trace his whereabouts, using credit card traces and vehicle identification, and the papers would then be formally served.

All of this had taken a toll on Allison, and her emotions were certainly mixed. There was relief at getting things moving, a feeling that she was starting to take back control of her life. She knew it was just the beginning, but even the smallest step was a start.

There was fear – fear of the consequences that were inevitable now that the ball had started rolling. Fear of Mike's reaction, of the day when she would need to face him, either in an attorney's office or in a courtroom.

Allison grabbed her bag and got out of the car. What she needed most of all now were her friends. People she trusted implicitly and around whom she could be herself – whoever that was.

She opened the front door and immediately caught the aroma of coffee, fresh bread and cinnamon. Since when did Claire become the home-maker, she thought. Dropping her bag and keys, she walked through to the kitchen, and was surprised to see not Claire, but Brian tending pots on the stove. He'd not heard her come in, and was busy stirring a sauce of some kind. She stood watching him for a few seconds, struck again with the confidence and comfort which now seemed to accompany everything he did – well, nearly everything. When he started singing an old song, one that had been popular with all five of them back in their last year at high school, she barely stifled a laugh at his still inept vocal talents.

Brian glanced over his shoulder at the sudden sound, and seeing Allison, he moved the pot away from the burner and walked over to her, embracing her in a huge bear hug. Allison accepted the embrace gratefully, and for a minute the two friends stood quietly together, letting everything settle.

When they separated, Brian nodded over to the coffee pot, where cups and sugar were already laid out. Allison poured herself a cup, and sat at the counter. She told Brian all about the conversations with Nathan, and the processes that had been filed. He listened quietly, only speaking to check that the decisions had been Allison's – or at least had been in line with her wishes. There was only the briefest of pauses before Allison nodded, and her face dropped a little, her fringe falling to hide her eyes. She didn't want Brian to see the tears prick against the inside of her eyelids, to realise just how much of her behaviour was bravado.

Brian saw something else though. He was transported back over the years, to the very first time he's met Allison, back in Mr Vernon's detention session. Then, she'd used her dark bangs as a screen, keeping silent counsel whilst she secretly appraised the others in the room. This time, Brian knew that the barrier was to keep her feelings in rather than keep others out.

Slowly and gently, he reached out, and carefully brushed away the strands of hair. Allison glanced up into his face, her eyes threatening to turn red and puffy, the tears reflecting the last rays of the early evening sun that snuck in through the kitchen window. The sparks of light told deep untruths, hinting at laughter and happiness, when fear, doubt and worry were all that lay behind the eyelids.

Brian bent and lightly kissed Allison's forehead. He used his thumb to gently wipe a tear that rolled slowly down Allison's cheek, and offered no words, but just a simple loving smile.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up, he whispered. "The others will be here soon.

"Others?" asked Allison, suddenly worried. It was one thing to be honest with her friends, but she couldn't handle anything more just now.

Brian saw the look flash across her face.

"It's OK, Ally. It's just Claire, and one other person. Remember what I said before about meeting John in Canada before I left? Well, he got in on the bus this morning."

Allison still looked scared. Her memories of John were of a brash, arrogant, borderline-violent teen, whose regard for other people's emotions easily matched his regard for the law.

"He's changed, Ally" Brian said. "He's… not the same person he was before. I think the years have been hard for him, and there's other things too, that – well, he should be the one to tell you. But you don't need to worry. I know he'll be feeling as apprehensive as you, and Claire and I are here."

The sound of the house door opening made them both turn towards the sound. Claire appeared in the doorway, shrugged, and stood aside. Behind her, John cut a shocking figure.

He appeared to have shrunk considerably, and his leather coat seemed far too big for his gaunt frame. His hair was still unkempt and greasy, but now was grey and thinning rather than thick and dark. He seemed far older than the others, and Allison barely recognised him. All of the aspects of his character and demeanour that she had feared were gone, replaced by a frailty and vulnerability that had no place in the John Bender she held in her mind's eye.

She slowly stood, and walked over to him. Brian and Claire stayed quiet, watching to see how the scene played out.

In the end, no words were needed by anyone. Allison simply reached out and took John's hand in hers. The briefest of smiles flickered across John's lips, and that was done.

Now the house was home for four.


	9. Late Night Truths

Brian heard the clock by the door quietly chime three times. Despite darkness outside, and an otherwise silent house, he couldn't sleep.

His visit to his parents had been emotional, and despite going through everything that had happened, and helping through the tears and apologies, the relief and the happiness, he's known that their house wasn't his home – and hadn't been for many years. It had taken a little persuasion, but he had finally convinced his mother that there was no need to make up a bed for him, that he wasn't moving back in – at least, not yet.

He'd mentioned Allison's situation, how he and Claire had found her and brought her back to the city. He had spoken about John, and how his life had brought him back home. He'd spoken of Claire and Andy, and his conversations with both.

His parents had realised, as his friends had, that this wasn't the son they had tearfully waved off to college all those years before. This was now a man who took his responsibilities seriously, and who wouldn't be running away again.

Brian had given them Claire's address and his cell number, and promised to call them the following day. Only after that had they let him go with hugs and more tears, Brian to head back to Claire's house, his parents to start the task of calling family and friends with the good news of their son's reappearance after so long.

It was little wonder that he couldn't sleep, with so much going through his mind. After John's arrival, the four had sat and talked – well, three of them had talked, John had sat nursing his coffee in near-silence, only speaking when directly addressed. Brian understood why, but as with Allison, knew that it was John's place to talk when he was ready. An early night had been called around 10pm, and John had been shown to the remaining bedroom, leaving Brian on the couch downstairs. He'd tried to sleep, but had found that he couldn't stop the events of the past few days from occupying his thoughts.

He stood and walked over to the window, and looked out at the still, empty street outside. He saw the streetlamp opposite – the one that he had stood under when he first made the call to Claire's phone. That brought back even more memories – he had not known what Claire's reaction would be when she heard his voice, but he certainly had not anticipated seeing her framed in the upstairs window, as naked as she had often appeared in his boyhood fantasies.

After a minute or two, he sensed that he was not alone. He turned to see Claire, leaning on the doorframe, her hair messed from her pillow, her eyes tired, and her robe clasped tightly around her waist underneath folded arms.

"Can't sleep either, hey?" she asked.

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "Too much happening up here," he replied, raising a finger to his temple and tapping his skull twice. "What about you?"

Claire smiled, and walked into the room. Brian dragged his bedding aside so that she could sit, and then dropped to the floor by her feet.

"Strange dreams," Claire whispered. "Some very strange dreams."

She reached out and touched Brian's hair, pushing her fingers through the loose blond curls.

"Must be strange having John back in town, huh?" Brian asked.

Claire paused for a moment, as if coming to a decision.

"Yes, but that's not what's on my mind" she replied. She resumed the movement of her fingers through his hair, and noticed that he had let his eyes fall closed. "I wasn't dreaming about John, I was …. dreaming about you…."

Brian didn't move, or open his eyes, but Claire heard the faintest intake of breath.

"I've been thinking a lot over the past few days" she continued, "and much of it has been about you. You know, you've helped more than you can possibly understand."

Brian shrugged his shoulders again. "All I've done is hose down some cows, shovel some horseshit and make some coffee" he muttered. "You're the strong one, dealing with Ally, with John, and with me turning up again out of the blue."

Claire pulled her hand away from his hair, and gestured to the seat next to her.

"Brian, sit up here – where I can explain this properly" she said.

Brian knelt up, and sat alongside her. Claire took a deep breath, and began to talk.

"The best thing that has happened over the past week is you coming home. Seeing you, and knowing you are safe, well, and here – that alone makes everything all right. But it's more than that."

Claire looked into his eyes, and continued.

"I spoke with John before we came back here. He told me how he felt when he saw you in the truck-stop, how his life just stopped – and then started again. He said that as you two sat and talked, he let go nearly 20 years of loneliness and anger – at himself as much as at anyone or anything else – and you took it, understood it, and helped him to let it all go. Remember back at school, you were always nervous around him, like his attitude and aggression intimidated you, the way he always acted so sure of himself?"

Brian nodded. That pretty much summed up how John had made him feel.

"Well," said Claire, "John told me that's how he feels now around you. Not fearful because of any aggression, but intimidated, because everything you do, seems to be exactly the right thing for the moment and the person. He told me that you cut right through the wall he'd built around himself, and it's only because of you that he was able to come back at all."

Brian started to speak, but Claire raised her finger to his lips.

"When we went to see Ally, and found her alone at the farm, you gave us the space we needed to start the process" Claire said, in a softer tone. "You looked around, saw what needed to be done, and did it. Ally told me that you had asked her about… "

"Suicide?" asked Brian.

"Yeah" replied Claire. "I can't even say the word, but you saw that we had to know, and you were able to ask her when nobody else could or did. Ally told me that talking to you gave her the strength to start taking control of her life again."

"It's not just been me" Brian said. "You were the one that she spoke to first. You were the one sat with John, and you are the one that helped me sort stuff out with the folks. You've been the strong one, coping with us all. Nobody's given anything back to you."

"That's not true, Brian. You've given me something. I think you've given me something more than you could possibly know."

Claire turned her head away, scared to look at his face whilst she spoke the words.

"Brian – when I said I'd been dreaming about you, that wasn't entirely true. I had actually been dreaming of you… and me."

Claire could feel the familiar blush start to warm her chest and neck, but she'd gone too far to hold back now.

"Brian, what do you think when you look at me?

Brian cleared his throat. This conversation had snuck up on him before he'd been able to work out what he was going to say. Oh well, let's go with honesty…

"Claire, you know I've always had something for you. It's hard to explain, but remember what I was like as a kid. Nobody was more of a geek than me. I couldn't cope with girls, certainly couldn't cope with compliments from anyone but teachers. I'd have never dared say anything to you – or to Ally."

Claire sat silently, her breathing the loudest thing in the room. Brian reached over and took her hand.

"A lot has happened since then" he continued. "I've changed, and so have you. One thing hasn't changed, though. You are still the most beautiful person I know. Only now I know that you are the strongest, smartest, most dependable, most loving woman."

He let go of her hand, and reached to cup her face in his palm and turn her back to look at him. He was surprised to see the tears falling from her eyes.

"Claire, I always wanted you – but now I love you as well" he said. That brought more tears, and the tightly-held lips parted into a slowly growing smile.

With that, Brian slowly leaned forward and drew her face to his, for their first kiss…


End file.
